


Making Them Pay

by lottielovebuzz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angel & Hunter Interactions, Gen, Hunter!Claire, Hunters & Hunting, Pre-Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-01-25 19:12:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1659293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lottielovebuzz/pseuds/lottielovebuzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nearly three years had passed and she had just turned sixteen. They had moved away from Pontiac, trying to put that incident behind them, but there it was, suddenly thrust in their face once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Making Them Pay

She had said yes to Castiel to save her father, who was lying on the floor bleeding and dying. She had said yes to Castiel to save her mother, who was possessed by black smoke and wasn't herself. 

If she had known what it would be like, those few seconds of being possessed by wavelengths of celestial intent, maybe she would have reconsidered. She wonders how her father lasted nearly a year as a vessel, and managed to come back _sane,_ managed to still smile at her and cry when he held her for the first time in so long. She wonders how strong her father really was, to grab her wrist, and ask Castiel to leave her and enter him again. 

 _Not my daughter_. 

Maybe he knew what it would do to him. How it would burn him out until Castiel was inhabiting nothing but an empty vessel. It would've been hell to go through that, but something tells her that it would have been a million times worse to see his daughter go through that fate. 

She remembers that night that her father left; how she saw him put out his trench coat and walk out the door, and the only reason she followed him out was when she saw the bright light that enveloped her father. 

She had called out to him, wanting to make sure he was okay, but he only turned back to her and said in a voice much deeper than normal: _I am not your father_. 

Claire didn't know what to make of that. At first, her young mind went into overdrive. She thought he was admitting to not being her biological father; that she was adopted or her mother had an affair, _something_ that would explain those words. 

But as soon as they entered her mind, she had to dismiss them. She knew it wasn't that; not because they would have told her, or something else along those lines, it just… it didn't sound like that. There was something deep in the pit of her stomach, that made her throw away those thoughts and realise that it meant something else. 

When she told her mother, she simply thought her father had finally snapped; had finally went insane and had abandoned them, something she had expected a lot recently, apparently. She can remember how many nights her mother cried herself to sleep the first time round - eighty-five days, though not all consecutive. It was one-hundred-and-two, the second time. 

Claire can remember how many times she prayed to God, asking for her father's safe return - three-hundred-and-forty-two. But after a while, she realised that no-one was really listening, and so gave up. She didn't even bother trying the second time her father disappeared from her life. 

When her father begged Castiel to return to his body, she was thankful. She's not sure how she could take that kind of life; living inside her own body but not being able to control it. It sounds like a nightmare, so when she felt Castiel's grace leave her and re-enter her father, she was… pleased. 

Her father made that sacrifice for her, and it somehow managed to reconfirm the thought that was starting to disappear; the thought that her father loved her and cared for her. 

She was willing to forgive her father for it all; willing to forgive Castiel and live her life… until she saw her father's body on every single television, no matter where she went. 

Nearly three years had passed and she had just turned sixteen. They had moved away from Pontiac, trying to put that incident behind them, but there it was, suddenly thrust in their face once more. 

She heard words come out of her father's mouth; claiming to be the new God… an even better God. She knew that it wasn't her father speaking - after all, he still called himself Castiel - and it was at that precise moment, Claire decided that he would pay. 

Her father gave his life to serve God and Heaven, to do his "duty"… he did not give his life for some angel with a big ego to go about claiming to be the new God. She knew her father; he only ever wanted to do _good_. He wanted to serve and just be a servant of God. 

Claire was not going to let his memory be mocked by the very angel he chose to trust; she was not going to let her father's body be used to kill and do evil in the name of God. 

After that, her grades drop from all straight-A's to barely making D's. Her mother worries about the sudden change, of course she does, seeing as she either spends all her time within the library or locked up in her room. She reads every version of the bible that she can finds; checks out every book there is on angel-lore, she even surfs the web, trying to find something that'll help her. 

That's when she stumbled across a series of books, and when she reads the blurb for one, seeing the characters are called Sam and Dean, she suddenly has flashbacks of the two men that were with her father; that swore to protect him. 

She downloads the entire series, but only skips ahead to the books that were published after her father disappeared. That's when the angels are mentioned. It doesn't take long for them to start popping up more and more, and when one is suddenly killed, Claire can seem to stop the smile that spreads across her face, because _yes_ , they can be killed. 

It takes an angel blade, something that only an angel has and needs to either give up, or be taken from, but they can be killed nonetheless. It's enough to get her through another two years of high school, because she know that her mother would be distraught if she had to run away at only sixteen or seventeen. 

It's three weeks after her eighteenth birthday, when she's comparing everything she has against the checklist she made, does something catch her eye. She frowns and turns her head to the window, looking out to the sky, only to see hundred upon hundreds of comets streaking the sky. 

Her mother comes into her room, ignoring the rucksack and the list talking about holy oil and guns, and says that it's a beautiful meteor shower. 

But Claire knows better. She knows that it's more than just rock shooting through the atmosphere; she knows, deep in her heart and her gut, that it's to do with the angels. She picks a fight with her mother then, before slamming her bedroom door in her face. She just needed her out of the room so she can look up to see if her idea is real. After all, her mother isn't strong enough to deal with this. 

She turns back to the stack of books, picking up the only one that's worn and torn to the point of falling apart, and starts flicking through it. 

"Shooting star" is underlined in red ink, and ever since she read that damn story of those hunter brothers, she knew that they would become important. It's the most revealing one about angels in the series, and sometimes, it's all she needs to read to remember that they can be killed; that it's not a stupid idea she has concocted. 

 _The angels are falling from Heaven_.

It doesn't take her long to make the connection, and as she turns her head back to the sky, continuing to watch the "meteor shower", she can't help the grin that stretches across her lips. She's finally got her chance to take her revenge. 

She leaves a note for her mom; she's not that cruel, but the idea of leaving her mother isn't enough to make her stop, so she finds herself crawling out the window in the dead of night, without looking back.

She has no idea how she's going to find a way to tell what person was being possessed by an angel and what one wasn't. She knew from experience that she couldn't exactly go up to someone, and ask, "did you say yes to an angel possessing you?" without either getting killed, or restrained and taken to a hospital. 

It's after the third day out, as she studies the crowds that walk past her, does she catch a glimmer, something not quite normal with one of the men that go walking by her. She wonders what it is, but her curiosity isn't enough to make her question it more. 

It isn't until she gets back to the motel - that she pays with the money she cleared from her savings account - does she realise that he was an angel. 

She realises that she's been possessed by an angel before, so, by all means, she knows what they're like; knows how they tick. Surely she should be able to identify that… that _spark_ that is their grace. 

The next day she decides to try it out, and it works, much to her amazement, but that feeling doesn't last long. She's alone with the angel, and the next thing she knows, the angel is suddenly on her and Claire is very aware that she doesn't have a damn weapon on her. 

She's smaller than the angel's vessel though, and she's quicker at moving and darting around, and somehow (she really has no fucking idea _how,_ though), she ends up with the blade in her grasp and is thrusting it through the angel's stomach. 

The light that burst from the vessel, roasting the poor person from the inside out is nearly enough to knock Claire to her feet, but she continues to stand her ground, taking in the sight of the angel dying beneath her fingertips; of stabbing and destroying the very essence that makes an angel, an angel.

When the used up vessel crumples to the ground, eyes burned out black and the outlines of broken wings etched onto the ground, Claire flips the blade and stares at the blood that drips down the silver. She finally has something to work with now. 

She'll be unstoppable. 

Angels start to drop like flies; so much so that rumours start to spread about Claire Novak; the angel hunter who doesn't take pity or allow mercy, and even though she's nothing put a puny human, the very mention of her name manages to strike fear into their core. She may just be a human, but she's the human that's killed every angel she's came across, without receiving anything worse than a cut. 

Claire has no idea how many angels Heaven actually had, but all she knows is that they're now thirty-two angels short… no, wait, it'll be thirty-three now, as she tugs one of her blades from the angel's neck and lets it collapse to the ground. 

There's still some wonder about seeing a once powerful creature, motionless at her feet, and _knowing_ that she was the one that caused its demise. But she has seen that sight so many times that she doesn't seem to stop, or care anymore. She's got a routine now and she very rarely strays from that. The only time she will is when she gets to her big target; that's the one she'll cherish.

She digs out her cloth from her bag, before she wipes the blood from the blade. Once it's clean, she stashes them both inside the bag again, alongside the other three that she has. 

She stands again, slinging the bag over her shoulder before she makes her way to the newest car she's stolen, leaving the nameless angel as a lifeless corpse in the barn behind her. 

And sure, it's just another pathetic, useless angel, and not the one she really wants, but it's still not a pointless kill. She knows Castiel is a big and powerful target, and she's going to need all the practice she can if she's planning on having his blood on her hands. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	2. The Chance of a Life Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...this may be turning into a really longfic. especially when i got the idea to turn this into a hael/claire fic, so yeah...!!

When Claire sees him walk into the cage she was sat in, somewhere in Kansas, she can't believe her eyes. Her hand immediately goes to the angel blade that she keeps in the inside pocket of her jacket. 

It takes those two Winchesters to walk up beside him, before she comes to her senses. She ca't act too brash, she knows just how big a target Castiel would be; especially with those two lap dogs following him around. 

Her hand drops from the inside of her jacket, before she stands from her seat and slings her backpack over her shoulder. 

She watches as the three of them move over to a table by the window. She bites her lower lip before she moves over to stand by their table, deciding on the best way to play this out. They turn their heads when she stops beside them, looking at her with mixed expressions, ranging from raised eyebrows to frowns. 

Before they can even get a word out, asking her who she was or what the hell she was doing, Claire opens her mouth and speaks first. 

'Dad?' 

She hadn't meant to say that, but she couldn't help it. As she approached the man that looked like her father, she couldn't sense that spark of grace, the very essence that made him an angel. She couldn't help but think that maybe Castiel had left him; maybe when the angels fell from Heaven, he was able to get out of the deal. 

Maybe this wasn't Castiel sitting in front of her… maybe it really was her father, Jimmy Novak.

'Excuse me?' 

But then again… maybe not. 

Her father is long gone. She can't get her hopes up, and she can't let her guard down. She gives him a tightlipped smile, unable to offer anymore. 

'You don't remember me, do you? Why should you, I was just your vessel for five minutes.' She retorts and from the corner of her eye, she sees the Winchesters twitch, move their hands towards their weapons. Her hand itches, wanting to grab her angel blade and just finish this already, but she reminds herself that she's still inside a cafe. She needs to be smart about this.

He studies her for a second, his blue eyes skimming over her face, back and forth between her two eyes, before they suddenly widen in recognition. 

'Claire Novak.' A smile spreads across his lips as his eyes look her up and down. 'You've grown up.' 

'You haven't aged at all.' She replies before she swallows hard. 

'Wait! Claire Novak? Your vessel's kid? The one that's been hunting angels ever since they fell?' Dean speaks up, and Claire turns her head, briefly looking him over. Three against one. She wasn't sure she liked those odds. She's got better, she keeps getting better, Hell, her count is up in the hundreds now; she's lost track of the exact number in her head, but she's got a score on her journal for every angel she's killed.

'The one and only.' She grins at him, and she's suddenly thankful that she never let it slip to anyone that she had a particular angel in mind. Though, judging by the way that Castiel's brow furrows, and he studies her, she can't help but feel that he's slowly adding the pieces together. 

'Good for you, kid. Those angels are a bunch of dicks anyway.' 

'Dean!' Castiel snaps, narrowing his eyes at him in warning but Dean just shrugs. 

'What? You're the only one that isn't. The rest of them? Assholes.' 

'They're my family, Dean.' He declares, and Claire doesn't miss the way his gaze floats to her again. 'Why did you do it?' 

She suddenly has three pair of eyes on her and her previous thoughts come back to her; she's outnumbered three to one _and_ they're in a public place. If this starts, she's no good way of getting out of this. She's not doing this here and she's not allowing them to back her into a corner. 

Her hand slips into her jean's pocket and she pulls out the card from the crappy motel that she's staying at. She flicks it onto the table, and whilst she's aware that one of the Winchester brother's grab it to look at it, her gaze stays on Castiel. 

'You want an answer to that question? You meet me there later.' Claire doesn't give him a chance to reply, for she readjusts her grip on the backpack slung over her shoulder, and turns and starts to leave. 

It isn't until she's at the door of the cafe does she turn back and advise, 'And only bring one lapdog with you.'

~oOoOoOoOoOo~

The angel blade is sitting on the bed when she pulls the door open after the first knock. Castiel stands in front of her with Dean beside him, and there's no fondness in his face anymore. He's obviously realised that her target is Castiel… that she's not just killing angels because they're "dicks". He's obviously realised that if it wasn't for Castiel, she wouldn't even know about angels. 

She'd still have a mother; still have a father. 

She stands aside and lets them enter the room. They notice the blade straight away, but neither of them make a move for any weapons, and Claire can't help but wonder if they actually have any on them. 

'Claire,' Castiel starts, but he doesn't get to finish whatever he's trying to say. Hearing her name spill out of her father's mouth again after so many years, in a voice that's too deep to be his, it snaps something inside Claire. Her fist connects with his cheek a second later, following through until it's cracking against his nose. 

The sound echoes around the room and when she feels the smear of blood against her knuckles, she jumps back and examines it.

Her blue eyes flick between the blood on her hands and the man that looks like her father, who's holding onto his nose to try and stop more blood dripping down his face. 

'You're…' she trails off. They didn't bleed; they didn't feel a _punch_ , they needed a special blade to kill them, even when they were fallen. What the…? 'You're human.'

His hand is covered in blood now, but it's starting to ease so he lifts his head to meet her gaze and nods. 

'But… no! This isn't how it's supposed to go. Do you know how often I dreamt of taking the very thing that makes you an angel? Of carving it out of you with a blade so that the only thing left would be the shell of my father; the one that you burnt up!' 

'Claire, I assure you I never -' 

She doesn't let him finish. 'Never what? Do you know how painful it was for my mom and me? To see him on the TV proclaiming to be a new and better God? Do you know how painful it is to go day to day, looking in the mirror, looking into your eyes and seeing the _only_ thing you share with him? He _trusted_ you, Castiel! He left my mom and me for you, and you betrayed him! You use his body like it's your own.' 

'Claire, your father left his body when he asked me to take him instead of you.' Cas murmurs softly, as he takes the flannel shirt that Dean shrugs out of and hands to him. He bundles it up and presses against his nose, wiping the blood away with a gentle touch.

Claire shakes her head at him, her eyes flickering over towards the angel blade that still lays on the bed. She could reach it and finish this for good, even if she doesn't get to witness his grace burn her father from the inside out, but she still gets to finish him off. She still gets the ending she's dreamt of for so long. 

But first, she needs to figure out whether or not this angel is actually telling the truth. 

'You're lying. He's still in there and you've just buried him deep.' 

'Claire, trust me, I would never lie about that. I enjoyed your father's company. There were times when he was the only person I could turn to. I _miss_ him, believe it or not. I was ready to take you as a vessel, so I could let him live his life, but he insisted in saving you… and I don't blame him. It was painful for you to see him go through that, but imagine how it would have been for your mother and father to see _you_ in that position.'

Claire falters for a second, but only a second, and as soon as she recovers, she turns to him with a sneer on her lips. 

'Why don't I believe you? Oh, wait, that's right, you were the one that was strutting about claiming to be God.' 

'I was overrun with souls from Purgatory and Leviathan.' Castiel admits almost sheepishly, and Claire can't seem to stop herself from going slack-jawed. 

'Levia-what-now?' She questions before she scoffs and turns her questioning gaze to Dean. 

'He's not even kidding. Do you know how many times your father has been exploded and killed, only to be brought back?' Dean chuckles but trails off when Claire's eyes narrow dangerously, and Castiel's head flies around to him, with a loud exclamation of his name. 

'That wasn't the right thing to say, was it?' Dean murmurs before he takes a step back, and allows Castiel to concentrate on removing that hurt and shocked expression from Claire Novak's face. 

'Claire, listen to me, I know what it's like to think that the only way to feel better is to seek revenge. Trust me, I've been down that road… we've _all_ been down that road.' He takes a deep breath, before continues. 'I understand you, trust me, I do, but do you really think this will make you feel better? You're not just going to see a dead me, not now, you're going to see your father.' 

Claire swallows hard, her hand trembling as her gaze flickers briefly back over to the angel blade that still sits on the bed, almost forgotten about.

'Don't… you're not my father. You don't get to speak to me like you get to steer my future.' 

'I just don't want you to throw away your life for the sake of having my blood on your hands.' Castiel declares softly. 'It won't bring your father back.' 

'No, but it'll get rid of the man that stole him from me.' She hisses in return, but there isn't as much conviction in her voice this time. His words are starting to make her head spin and hurt. This is the moment she has dreamt about; being alone with Castiel and being near to an angel blade to kill him with. But now, she finds that she can't do it… doesn't _want_ to do it. 

How can she plunge a blade into the body of her father? Especially now when his features aren't being blurred by the angel's grace. All she's seeing now is her father, and she knows that she can't follow through with that.

Right now, she's all talk and absolutely no action. 

It doesn't show on her face though, not as she slowly moves over till she's standing beside the bed. Her hand snatches the angel blade from the mattress, but before either Dean nor Castiel can react, she lifts her backpack as well and places it on the bed. 

Claire tucks the angel blade back into her bag before she turns to the men, who are still watching her, but now with soft expressions upon their face, instead of the worried and defensive ones they wore just seconds ago. 

'I'm not going to stop hunting the angels. I know just how much pain they can cause,' her eyes flickering briefly to Castiel once more. 'But I'll let you go… like I said, my dad abandoned my mom and me for you, Castiel. He wouldn't want me doing this.' 

'Claire, you don't have to-' Dean starts, but Claire just raises her hand a silences him. She doesn't want to hear it.

'No. I know I don't, but I want to. I've got a life and I want it this way.' She turns back towards the door, opening it and looking into the darkness with a fond expression. Her bright eyes find the recent car she's stolen, and then she turns back to Dean and Castiel. 

'Maybe I'll see you guys around; maybe a hunt will cross our paths again.' Claire whispers softly, before she turns back towards the car and leaves the revenge hunt that had driven her for so long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


	3. What Else to Do but Move On?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written whilst i was half asleep. sorry for mistakes and if this actually makes sense... wow!!!

As soon as Claire steps into the car and starts the engine up, she can't decide whether she's made the right choice or not. Confusion consumes her as she pulls away from the motel, leaving Dean Winchester and the man that killed and humiliated her father behind. 

What he said was true on some level. How could her father still be alive? The last time she saw him, he was bleeding after her mother - though it wasn't really her mother, she was possessed by a demon after all - shot him in the stomach. He was losing energy, he could barely keep his eyes open as Castiel left her body and passed into his. He was sputtering and swallowing blood, and with all her new knowledge on how to deal with wounds, and what kind are fatal or need professional care, she knew he had no chance of surviving. 

It would make sense that when Castiel repossessed her father, he just… drifted away over time. She can't see it happening immediately, but she had been possessed by an angel for only a brief moment, and yet she still can't get over the whirlwind it put her through. 

Castiel had used her to smite three demons, and already she felt like she had the very beings of the galaxy inside her; like she held the very answer to the constellations and the suns. Her head hurt for hours after that, she could barely say a word as her mother drove her home to Pontiac for the last time. She can't imagine what her father would have felt, spending a year with an angel inside him. 

He couldn't have survived that long, especially with the injury he had suffered. 

She knows from the Carver Edlund books that her father  - well, his body anyway - had been flown from place to place, looking over the Winchester brothers; knows he had been shot and stabbed and healed and thrown against brick walls. Her father's body had been put through a fuck tonne of pressure, and here she was, expecting him to be okay. 

How she ever thought she could do that, drive a blade through her father's heart… look him in the eye as Castiel burnt from inside him. 

Castiel was right; she wouldn't see the angel that ruined her life dying, she'd just see the man that raised her and loved her being murdered by his daughter.

Claire sighs and closes her eyes for only a second. When she reopens them, her eyes focusing on the road once more, she lets out a shriek when she sees someone crawling in the centre of the road. Claire hits the breaks immediately, the car tires screeching against the concrete road as it grinds to a halt, just before the bumper manages to hit the woman crawling out in the road. 

Claire reaches for her bag that's in the passenger seat, her eyes staying focused on the woman lying on the road, eyes wide as she stares at the car like a deer caught in headlights. She unzips it and slowly pulls the first angel blade she comes in contact with out of the bag. 

As soon as her grasp is tight around the handle of the blade, Claire opens the door and slowly steps out, after putting that car in park so it doesn't roll forward and run over the poor woman anyway. 

But when she circles around the car and comes face to face with the woman, she almost wishes she had left the car in drive. 

'You're an angel.' Claire growls, eyes meeting the vivid blue eyes of the angel - well, its vessel - and finds she suddenly can't breathe. Those eyes, as bright as her father's used to be and the face they are set in is just as soft. 

Despite herself, her hand with the blade falters when the angel slowly blinks and nods her head. Claire's eyes examine the poor woman on the ground, taking in the blood that cakes her face, in fact, the blood that cakes her entire body.

'What happened to you?' She questions, finding that instinct to just drive her blade into the petite woman's form is slowly evaporating from her. She needs to more about the most broken and destroyed angel she has ever encountered. She needs to know what happened here.

An almost unbelieving smirk appears on the angel's face a second after hearing the question, and she lets out a soft chuckle. 

'You wouldn't believe me.' 

'Try me.' Claire retorts, and she doesn't even realise that her blade still hangs by her side, not even poised or gripped in a defensive manner. She doesn't know what it is; whether it's to do with the fact the angel is clearly injured and so couldn't attack her, or there's just… _something_ about the angel that's stopping her from _wanting_ to hurt or attack her. 

'I got into a car accident.' The angel grins at her. 'Just after I fell, I had plans to take another vessel as this one was starting to burn up, but he grabbed the wheel and made us crash. I wasn't wearing a…' 

She pauses long enough for Claire to answer, 'Seatbelt.' 

'Yes, Seatbelt. I wasn't wearing one, so I went flying through the screen. I was lying there for weeks, slowly regaining power from the fall to heal my vessel. I'm still not totally healed, but I felt strong enough to pull myself to the road to get a better grasp on where I was, or even get help.' She grins crookedly at Claire then, titling her head up in an almost teasing way that has the younger woman biting her lower lip softly. 'I didn't think about the possibility of nearly getting ran down, though.'

'What's your name?' The angel questions after a beat, when Claire doesn't say anything to the last, rather teasing statement. She readjusts herself, pain shooting through her legs as she does so, and she still can't get over that. It _hurts_. Sure, it probably doesn't hurt like it would a human, but there's still a twang in the back of her body that reminds her she's not at full power. She doesn't have her connection to Heaven; her grace isn't at its full capacity. 

'Claire Novak.' She answers after only the briefest of hesitation. This angel has been trapped on the side of a road for weeks, slowly healing herself back to a decent health… she wouldn't know about Claire being an angel hunter. 

'Claire Novak? Why does that name sound familiar?' The angel murmurs, more to herself than an actual question, and so Claire decides she doesn't have to answer. A frown appears on her elegant face, as she tries to think of where she's heard that name before, but when she still hasn't got an answer after a minute passes, she shakes her head. 'I'm Hael.'

'Nice name.' Claire finds herself replying, but she snaps her mouth shut the second those words leave it. Where the hell did that come from? Since when did she compliment angels? Since when did she stand in the middle of a road, with a _defenceless_ angel and just fucking talk? Why hasn't she plunged a blade into the damn things throat and went on her way? 

 _Because there's something about this one, and you know it_ , a voice inside her head whispers and Claire can't seem to find any reasonable argument to that.

'Do you want a ride to the hospital? I mean, I know that you're an angel, but if your grace is running low, a little bit of human care may be the thing you need. Just, an easier way to stitch up your wounds and such?' 

Hael studies her for a moment, bright - and holy fuck, _gorgeous_ \- eyes flicking back and forth between the car and Claire, before they fix entirely on Claire as she nods her head. 

'I think that'd be a good idea. Yes. Thank you.' 

Claire lets the angel blade drop from her hands then, letting it land on the ground with a loud clatter as she moves forward to help the angel to her feet. 

And as she helps Hael into the car, she isn't even ware of the fact that it's the last time she's going to brandish an angel blade in front of an angel; that her angel hunting days are over the second Hael enters the car, for she now has something else to focus on; someone to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoying this fic?? I'd love you forever if you bought me a coffee!! ko-fi.com/cahwrites


End file.
